


Winter Prayers

by wherenonagoes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Christmas, Multi, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherenonagoes/pseuds/wherenonagoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel, the god of winter, is ready to throw his storms towards the Earth, but something is wrong. He travels to the town above the sky where he presides to find that another god has been named and is helping the humans survive through his onslaught of ice, and he is not happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting the New God

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this will be finished by Christmas!! But it will be finished before the end of December! I don't know if I'll update everyday, but it will probably be close to that :) Thank you for reading!!

His time came, much like the wind he blew over the land beneath him; the cold surges of the invisible power overcoming every living thing, chilling them to the bone. Castiel took pleasure in every shiver, every tremble, anything that showed that his time of reign had come and his sister's had ended. Snow hadn't littered the ground yet though, he planned to wait until the optimum day, until the stars meant for him reached the correct positions, and as it was, that was only a few more days away, and he had a storm brewing in the back of his mind.

The people of the planet below him had always fascinated him in how they were able to survive the harsh winters he threw their way, on how absolutely cold and devastating he made the few months he was able to control the weather on the Earth before his other sister took them from him. It eased his sense of mind, releasing power that had been stored up to make every winter grueling and torturous for those who were not immortal, for those who felt the cold and died in his grasp every day from his fingers breaking off their own.

This winter seemed different already though, Castiel could not feel the prayers and pleads that people usually gave him. The begging and groveling for him to just let the snow not stick, to let them live through the most hated time of year. Something must have happened to the people over the seasons he slept and slumbered. He needed to find out what, and put an end to it.

The closest town to where he usually perched in the clouds stood as a beacon on a hill. Roaring torches on walls that he had not remembered being there last winter. He swept by, invisible to the humans, looking around the wall. Made of wood, it stood strong against the wind, propped on both sides by more strong timbers, making the town a sort of haven, free from what he prided himself most in. Castiel frowned, this had not been his decision, to let these humans learn more of a craft he had given to them.

Naturally wood working was given to them by Castiel, to keep the majority of the humans alive during the harsh months, teaching them to make fire, to make shelter. This large obstruction surrounding the town though, the idea must have belonged to a human. Castiel fell to the ground, letting his icy white feet touch the grass, freezing it on contact. He made himself visible to the human eye, appearing as a young man, head covered in stark brown hair, eyes icy blue, skin as pale as snow. His clothes were that of the common people, leathers and furs to keep him warm for the winter months, though he did not need them. Anael had taught the people that, her winds being more fierce in her time, but the sun loving them all the same.

Within the walls, alight with fire though nothing burning, he saw something he did not expect. Houses made of stone stood erect all around him, lined with workings inside them, filled with warmth and security. Upon reaching the first house, he touched a stone and drew his hand back; it had been warm to the touch. Castiel looked around at the people, going about their lives. A woman carried a plank covered in breads and goods, while men came back up from the forest and river, nets and buckets filled with fish and game. Two men carried a large buck on their backs, cheering about the feast they would have to celebrate the beginning of winter.

They still celebrated his coming it seemed, and that put a smile on Castiel's face as he continued to walk through the village. Not every house was made of stone, though it looked to be that every house was turning to stone, wood of oak and birch they had around them being put aside for stone from the quarry he knew was not far away. As he walked further into the enclosure he felt a source of energy that was unknown to him, something that seemed foreign but powerful. More people walked around him as he grew near to where he knew the shrine to the gods was, he could feel his own source of power nestled there among the stones and rocks, though only he knew which one held his essence.

A large table stood in front of the shrine, covered in every food imaginable. A pit for fire, the one he had shown the ancestors of these people how to make, roared with flames that licked towards the sky, waiting to burn anything put over it. Breads and small animals and fish rested on the table, as well as drink of every kind for adults to children. That was when Castiel saw the large stone sitting in the middle of the shrine, the one he knew held the foreign power.

"Hey, could you help?" Castiel turned at the voice to see the men with the buck on their backs. The one who had spoken to him had short light brown hair and freckles danced over his face like snow falling, his green eyes comparable only to grass in the summer. Castiel nodded, and not wanting to let them believe he was a god, reduced his strength, helping the two men carry the buck over to the fire pit. They placed it on a table not far away, and began gutting and skinning it. Castiel stood to the side, trying not to watch.

"Are you alright?" The other man, taller than the one who had first spoke, walked over to him, concern on his face.

"I am fine. I am just- unaccustomed to seeing animals treated like that," Castiel shivered, the first time in centuries. The man, whose long brown hair fell to his shoulders, furs and leathers stacked on him like hot cakes, nodded and looked back to the other man.

"Well, I'm Sam, and the one mercilessly cutting up the buck is Dean. I don't think I've seen you around town before, did you travel here before winter?" Sam wasn't cold, Castiel could tell from looking at him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him, and he almost vomited at the thought. Castiel knew his own skin, not matter what he did to it, would be cold, but he could at least make sure it wasn't frozen. Before Castiel could answer though Dean shouted their way.

"Part of the damn thing froze! I don't even know how that could happen," Dean grumbled, but he cut off the section that seemed to be frozen, which happened to be the part Castiel had touched.

"It's okay, Dean. There's more than enough for the whole village tonight," Sam walked back over, turning his head towards Castiel and showing him an apologetic smile. Castiel watched after them, and then he began walking towards the shrine.

There were stones of every size and every color, all touched in some way by a god, a few handful holding the source of a god's power. There was a new one, and he wanted to touch the stones, but he knew the villagers wouldn't like that, so he bent down, looking closely at what he knew to be foreign. A small girl came up to him, and he turned his head to see her. She was born in the spring, her essence and the warmth rolling off her body in waves told him this. She could only be a few season cycles old.

"Are you looking at Dean's stone? Isn't it pretty?"

"Dean's stone?"

"Yeah! Dean's a god now! He protects us!"

"A god? Living among humans?"

"Yeah! He's so nice and I bet he would even let you touch it," the little girl smiled and bent down, pressing her palm to the stone in front of them. Castiel swirled his head to look at Dean and he frowned. How could he be a god? Then he noticed Dean was looking their way, smiling at the little girl, rolling his shoulders before he got back to work.

Castiel knew first hand that when someone touched a god's source of power that they were controlled by whoever touched or held it, that they held no free will when it happened. He knew all too well about that, and Castiel shivered again, shaking his head before standing up. The little girl smiled up at him before a woman called her away. Castiel watched after her before returning to Sam and Dean.

They had already put up the buck, and someone slowly rotated it over the fire while the two men washed their hands and arms. Dean, now that he got a closer look at him, shone with a radiance he had only seen encompassing a god. Dean was the first to speak when he approached.

"So, did she tell you?" Dean had a smirk on his face, and it stayed there until Castiel asked a question.

"Yes. Though if I could ask, were you born a god?"

"How about we go back to the house and we have some mead, and I'll tell you everything that happened during the summer," Dean smiled at both Castiel and Sam, and they followed him into town. Castiel stayed in step with Sam, though he took two steps for every one Sam took.

"I don't think I ever caught your name," Sam glanced towards him as they continued to walk, and Castiel swallowed thickly. He needed to come up with a name and fast.

"My name is Cas, and I never answered your question from before, but yes. I traveled through the forest to get here before winter. I only arrived this morning though," it was almost time for the nightly repast, so it was safe to assume the two had been gone since the morning, missing his pretended arrival.

"Good, well, here we are," they paused as Dean opened the door to the stone house, and Castiel entered after Sam, Dean following behind him.

The house that the two men had, brothers by what Castiel could tell, was amazing. It seemed to have more than one room, though the house hadn't looked that large from the outside. Dean went over to a small chest and pulled out a large bottle and a few wooden cups, pouring the drink into them and sitting down at the small table, with luckily three chairs around it. They all sat with the drink in their hands, though Dean didn't drink, he spoke.

"Last summer, I was hunting, trying to go after the young fawns and whatnot, since two of them would have been enough for the fall celebration. What ends up happening, is I'm pointing my bow at a young buck, antlers barely sprouting, and from behind me one pieces me through the back. I black out and come to on top of a hill. I didn't know where I was, but there was a god in front of me. He told me his name was Gabriel, and that I'd been wounded, but he saw enough good in me, I guess enough potential, and he made me immortal, and even gave me some of his powers. I chose a rock to hold me down, like he told me, but I couldn't just tell the town that I'd been gone hunting for three days, and Sam had come looking for me, but hadn't found me in our usual hunting grounds. I know I was claimed by the winter god by being born in winter, but I guess I'm sort of a summer god now, or just a god," Dean finally paused, looking into his cup before taking a drink.

Dean obviously couldn't tell that Castiel was the winter god that had claimed him, and the mention of Gabriel's name angered him like no other. If Dean had been born in winter, it should have been his decision if he had lived or died, not his brother’s, no matter what season it had been at the time of the accident. Castiel tried not to seem angry though, he just stared into his own cup and finally took a drink, marveling at how amazing it was.

"So, how was your trip here? Where did you come from before?" Sam changed the subject so quickly, Castiel didn't have time to prepare for it. He swallowed again and began to think of conceivable lies to tell the brothers.

"It was a calm trip. The woods were not hard to navigate for me. I came from a very far town, I left during last spring," everything a lie, and it felt like blood on his tongue as he said it.

"You're lying. Who are you?" Dean stood from the table, his chair pushing back as he leaned forward, his hands pressed flat on the surface. Castiel blinked and he could feel the heat boiling under Dean's skin, slipping through and heating the air around him. Castiel stood up, pushing his own chair back, and suddenly, despite the enormous amount of heat Dean gave off, the room grew freezing, the small candles and lanterns freezing and going out.

"I am Castiel, god of winter, and protector of this place for these times. Gabriel had no right to claim you, you were mine," and even just stating the truth Castiel's blood boiled. This man, now god, had been his, under his protection and his claim and he had been take from him. Castiel stared down Dean, his human appearance fading to reveal the form he took most often. Castiel still stood at the same height, a fraction shorter than him, but his skin grew blue as if frozen, and his eyes returned to their natural state; the blue turning white and the white turning black. Small licks of blue flame also danced around his head, shining on the night blue hair that covered it.

Dean did not phase at the transformation but Sam hurriedly left the house, fearing for his life, not able to withstand the cold, the freezing chill Castiel emitted from his self. Dean stayed, staring right back at him, and before his eyes, Dean began to change as well, the temperature in the house returning to normal and soon growing too warm, hot, burning against Castiel's skin. Dean’s hair turned bronze and his skin tanned more though the freckles did not disappear, instead almost shining like stars themselves. The whites of his eyes turned gold, the green turning to emeralds. "You don't protect these people. You slaughter them during the winter, and I protect them. I can keep them safer now. I taught them to use stones instead of wood and this way we can stay out of your hands. Leave before I burn you."

Castiel stared at Dean, watched as his hair shone with a brilliance only matched by the sun. He stepped back, a frown still covering his face, and he laughed. "If you think you can keep these people protected from the storms I have waiting you are truly stupid. I don't ask for sacrifices other than that from nature so I also bring a few humans to serve me, and if I don't get even that I will bring your head to my perch as a trophy," Castiel turned and walked out the door. Throughout the town the torches died out, the warmth from the fires turned to ice, the light everywhere vanishing, leaving it dark and cold. The humans outside the house all looked at him in horror and he smiled before flying up into the sky, touching the clouds as he went and letting them rain ice.

This new god would not hinder him, he would make sure of that.

 


	2. The Chase

Dean could not believe that had just happened. He had just met the god that had been torturing them forever, the only god that actually took lives when his time of reign came. Dean stormed from the house, seeing what Castiel had left in his wake and just not accepting it. He let his heat leave his body, melting the ice before it was able to hit the ground. He also relit the lights in the town and then moved towards the shrine. They would not be celebrating the coming of winter, or the god who reigned over it.

The people in the village didn’t know what was going on, and soon enough all fifty of them were gathering around the shrine they held to their gods. Dean looked out over all of them, still in his godly form, and he sighed. “This year, we will not sacrifice our bread and wood to the winter god. His name is Castiel, and he means to kill us all. We will build faster and keep our food and supplies to ourselves, in the storages I showed you how to make. We will prevail, and I will keep you safe no matter what, even if I have to sacrifice myself,” Dean looked out over the people, and they stayed silent, clueless of the danger that loomed over them in the coming days.

Dean let his speech sink in, and he nodded, turning towards the shrine. He knew that Castiel’s source of power lay there somewhere, but finding it would be impossible. He hadn’t been able to feel any power at all coming from the stones other than his own, and the rest were all random in size and color that any one of them could be the other god’s stone. He growled and turned back towards the people. “Let us feast to a happy winter, a winter free of death and cold!"

 

* * *

 

Castiel watched on as Dean gave his speech, invisible to every eye in his clouds that seated themselves low in the sky. He scoffed at the idea of this god stopping him, of this barely godly thing keeping him from what he had always demanded. He couldn’t let it snow until he was ready though, and that would take at least another a day, so he would let the people prepare themselves, or at least try to prepare themselves for the kind of absolute blizzard they would experience the next couple days.

To get ready his own creation, Castiel began to dance between the clouds that covered the sky above the village, touching them and making them heavy with snow, and dark with violence. He blew through the sky, letting the wind swirl and turn around, making sure that it seeped through every crack in the village’s outer wall, and through the houses and homes and dwellings all there within. They would not get through this season easily, no matter what they did.

The smells from fires and the smell from food lifted to his perch, and he looked down upon the humans to see what they did. As Dean had said, they burnt their offerings, not letting him go down to retrieve them during the night like usual. They are their own breads and cakes and pies, meat slathered on plates went down throats with equal amount of mead and drink. They were not celebrating him, they were celebrating a release from him, as if that were possible.

Castiel let the clouds continue to rain ice, hurling the small pins down at the people, chilling them as best he could. Suddenly a blast of heat him, dissipating the clouds he sat on, and he almost fell before he let the wing bring him to another clouds. He could see the smirk on Dean’s face, for the godling could see him up there wreaking havoc, though how Castiel did not know.

"Castiel would it not be better to just let them live in peace?" The god turned around to see his sister Hael, her black hair down to her elbows and her face bright with sunlight that did not come from anywhere. Castiel glanced back at the tone before turning to his sister.

"They have insulted and threatened me. I will do all in my power to be rid of them."

"Is this about the god Gabriel named during his time? I thought him a good man as well, not the overly violent type," Hael fashioned herself a seat from clouds and at her touch they turned milky white and fluffy, no longer threatening to break loose a maelstrom.

"Yes. Gabriel should have known he had no right to do that to someone claimed by my hands," Castiel grumbled, making himself a seat as well, though the clouds stayed the same with him. "Dean was mine."

"His name is Dean? That is a nice name, but as you said, he was yours. He now belongs to none of us. He is not a seasonal god like you or I or Anael or Gabriel, but a god of his people, he is their protector,” she paused and sighed before she continued, “Brother, I can not keep you from destroying the town but if you keep like this I am afraid that as you harm his people more, he will grow more powerful and overthrow you and winter will be gone from the cycle," Hael, as always, kept to logic. Her love for her brother and the Earth below them knew no bounds. Castiel sighed and nodded his head.

"I am still letting my storm happen, they have disrespected me in a way not allowed by any mortal being."

"I understand. But keep in mind that Dean is also a god now, he could come up here and do away with you, or he could find your stone and control you. You remember when that happened last, I would advise against letting it happen again," Hael stood from her chair, the clouds dropping to rejoin the ones below their feet. She smiled at her brother before she disappeared, back to her own realm of spring and warmth, leaving behind the scent of rain and lavender.

Castiel frowned, thinking on what his sister had told him, on what could come to pass again. He would need to avoid that at all costs, but as his stone already had a home amongst the humans he would not be able to move it. The only way for him to possibly get his revenge would be to take Dean's own stone. It was possible for him to do such a thing, but not when he was around the village. Castiel would need to wait for him to leave, maybe on another hunting trip.

It occurred to Castiel, that if the brothers were to bunt again, it would only be soon, as the animals would soon go into hiding, hibernating for his season. He cursed at himself before thinking about the alternative. He could let the clouds run away, he could save his storm for a later date, and get Dean’s stone while he went on one last hunting trip, or he could block any of the villages from leaving and keep them all pooled into their circle of wood that would supposedly protect them. Both seemed to be good choices, but only in one of those would he be able to get the upperhand in their current situation.

Castiel decided to stop his storm, delay it for a few days at least. He pushed the clouds back, letting the moon peak through the thin mist he left on the land. The temperature grew warm, but a chill stayed in the air, still making it uncomfortable to stay outside. They would know something is amiss, but Castiel only had to wait until the moon rose high enough to see where everything lay, and when the best time to steal the stone would be.

The next few days were uneventful. The people of the town grew restless, readying themselves, taking advantage of the warmth he’d given them and gathering more food from their farms, the rest of it finally making it to whatever storage Dean had talked about before. The blacksmith, an older man, though Dean helped him with his work and did it for him most of the time, worked on the housing. They were making pits for fire in the houses, and smoke could be let out through a hole in the roof that was built above the roof. Ingenious work, something Castiel would have never showed them had he knew how to do it himself; these humans were smart, and he couldn’t help but feel angered by that.

Finally the time came. In the early hours of the morning, when Castiel himself was partially slumbering the night away, Sam and Dean were leaving their little stone house. They had large bows on their backs, and Sam even had an axe on his hip. Both were trying their hardest to be quiet as they walked towards the exit of the village closest to the shrine. They both paused by the small wooden cover and pile of rocks, Dean saying something to Sam that Castiel could not hear. Then Dean left for the forest, trailing a blaze through the frost on the grass. Sam stayed by the shrine, leaning against a pillar that held up the wooden cover.

Dean set his brother to guard his stone. Castiel growled at this, flying down to the ground, invisible to all as he set his feet in front of the taller brother. Sam could not see him, could not sense him, but he still stayed in his place, trying to protect his brother from something he had no clue was right in front of him.

Castiel sighed and made himself visible; Sam almost fell down, but quickly loosed the axe out of  it’s tether, holding it in his hand since Castiel stood too close to use the bow.

“Stay away,” Sam threatened, his legs widening to a stance, his eyes not wavering from the god in front of him. Castiel shook his head, saddened to see this man fending off the power his brother didn’t deserve.

“I only have a question for you,” Castiel brought his hands to either side of him, keeping eye contact with the taller man. Sam started to relax, and finally stood up again, though the axe stayed in his hand by his side.

“What is it?”

“How did you let Dean go by himself? Unprotected in a wild that knows more magic than him?” Castiel grinned and he rose back into the air. He didn’t need Dean’s stone, not when the nature would work with Castiel to subdue the god in the forest. Sam looked lost as he watched Castiel rise up into the air and head off into the forest after Dean. This problem would be gotten rid of soon enough.

 


	3. The Forest and the Man

The wind took Castiel to the forest, landing him in front of the entrance, a canopy of evergreens shrouding what waited inside. No matter what way he entered though, he knew he would not be far behind Dean, he would be right on his tail in every direction possible.

Now he could not commune as well with the trees as Anael or Hael, who caused them to let their leaves fall or grow them anew, he did not have that sort of flexibility with nature. It simply did not like him. His time, his season filled the trees with dread, freezing them, killing saplings, and cutting back trees and plants that had stood longer than the village had on its hill. Everything he had them do was forced down their timbers, wrenched out of them like arrowheads embedded in skin. It of course meant he had more violent power, to match his own nature within him, and it meant he could, and would, make them do his bidding.

Upon entering the forest it was easy to find out where Dean was. Everything stayed silent in the early morning, animals asleep if they hadn’t already gone into hiding for his time, and snow did not fall from branches, it did not weigh down the trees to block his view. Finding Dean’s location did not even require him to use his power, as the so called god had left his footprints out in the open, not even hiding the path he took within the trees. It could be a trap, since Castiel knew that Dean was a seasoned hunter, someone to not make simple mistakes such as this, but it was all Castiel had to go on, not being able to look through the trees to find him, so he followed the large footsteps, putting his own within them as he hurried along beneath the trees.

Light on his feet, Castiel watched everything around him, sure of himself to not step on a branch or twig, to not let Dean know his position, or that he was being followed. The ground was soft, the dirt not packed but almost cushy in a way that could be comfortable if one seeked needed rest; perfect to stalk in if hunting the prime directive of anyone usually walking and traveling through these woods. The footsteps Dean took stood out, and they continued for far longer than Castiel thought they would, and then they stopped in a clearing.

Tall evergreens, large trunks and heavy branches filled with needles, surrounded him, the sky clearly visible above him, but nothing else in sight. Castiel turned and turned, trying to find more of the prints he knew Dean would have left, but none could be found, there was nothing there except for him and the trees. Castiel paused, closing his eyes and letting his ears take over, listening to everything around him. Deer were running east a mile off to his right; the small creek that flowed into the river on the outskirts of the forest babbled by, not yet frozen from his chill; there was breathing behind him, heavy breathing and the step of something much bigger than himself.

Castiel whirled around to see a bear walking into the clearing, his eyes golden and fur light brown. It stood on its back legs, its paws raised as it faced Castiel and roared. He moved to take a step back, putting his hands in front of him as the bear advanced. Ice began to form on his fingers, pointed like daggers and sharper than steel. The bear did not seem to care, running towards Castiel, his mouth wide open, teeth bared as he fell forward onto him, trying to bite any skin close enough.

Castiel sunk his hand into the bear’s skin, through the fur and fat and into his body, lifting the bear off of him. The thing struggled though, the bear continued to thrash and bite and claw at him, trying to reach under itself to harm Castiel in any way that it could. The bear eventually pushed Castel out from under him, the hole in his stomach pulsing and just spilling blood out. The bear did not falter though, still enraged, its eyes glowing with anger and Castiel looked closer. The golden color of its eyes were not natural, and that was when Castiel knew Dean was close by, hiding somewhere, controlling the bear, trying to hurt him.

“Dean, I know it is you,” Castiel growled to match the bear, now standing on all fours, his head level with Castiel’s staring him down, eyes bright and intense. The bear did not reply, and neither did Dean from wherever he hid. “Come and fight like a real god, without this humiliating thing as a guise.”

Nothing happened, the bear stayed where it stood, teeth still bared, blood still pooling below it’s stomach until it suddenly stopped. The bear stood again on its hind legs, thrashing his paws, extending its claws to scratch at Castiel, trying to injure him in any way it could. It struck at his shoulder, cutting through it easily, leaving the blue blood that ran through Castiel’s veins to drip and soak through the rest of his shirt. He grasped his shoulder as he leaped back in the clearing, bringing his hand to look at it before growing angry.

“You’re a weak fool Dean! This kind of fighting is for those who know they could not win. Fight like a real god or I will destroy the town and your brother!”

“You couldn’t do that, even if you tried,” Dean’s voice came from behind him, and he turned, forgetting about the bear as he saw Dean, his bow in position, an arrow nocked and ready to shoot. Castiel growled and sprang forward before jumping and turning over Dean, blowing down on him, gusts of wind exiting his mouth, shards of ice going as well, embedding themselves within Dean. Castiel landed on his feet, facing Dean’s back as he faltered, going to one knee and dropping his bow.

The bear stopped thrashing, it’s teeth no longer showing as it fell to all fours, sniffing around until it saw Dean. It walked over to him and nosed at his hair before licking the side of his face and then leaving, as though Castiel hadn’t fatally wounded it seconds before. Its eyes were no longer golden, but dark brown, and there was no sense of hostility throughout the whole thing.

Dean stood after the bear disappeared with sight, and he turned to face Castiel. The winter god still clutched his shoulder, breathing hard at the thought of having to heal from such a wound. Dean rolled his shoulders, and all the ice Castiel had pushed into him came out of their respective holes, covered with golden blood. Dean chuckled a bit before he bit his lip, pressing his hand to his side.

“You’re an excellent fighter, I’ll give you that,” Dean winced, pressing his hand to his side more. Blood oozed over his fingers, and he had to kneel down to one knee, before he could catch his breath. Castiel watched him and he swallowed thickly. Dean had taken the injury he’d inflicted on the bear, letting the animal live while he very well could be put into a slumbering state for years to come in order to heal the wound. That was unless he had contact with his stone of power, something gods were told only to touch in times of dire need. That much raw power in one being was too much to handle, but at a time like this.

Castiel had never seen himself as merciful, he had never thought about sparing lives before. It was not in his nature to let things live, his sole power to kill and destroy whatever his siblings had made during their time, but Castiel looked on this being and thought again about what he did. Dean, from what he had seen, only worked to help those in need. He was not actively trying to hurt Castiel, just protect those who could not protect himself. There was nothing wrong in what he did, it would just cause a hindrance and an annoyance to Castiel, who, in result to the lack of sacrifices, would grow weaker, but not enough so to dampen his power.

He stepped back, assessing Dean’s injuries and to what extent they would need to be healed before he walked forward, forgetting the ugly gash on his shoulder and wrapping his arm around Dean’s waist. Dean didn’t ask questions, he just leaned heavily on Castiel, sighing when they finally stood up. Castiel easily lifted his weight and they began to walk back to the village, neither one of them saying a word.

By the time they got back, Castiel’s wound had stopped bleeding, the gashes slowly starting to close up. Dean was not faring as well, unconscious the last half of the trip, making Castiel carry his full weight while trying to heal himself at the same time. At the edge of the forest the silence ceased, and he could hear the river just a few yards away, and the town just up the hill, the minglings of a people who didn’t know their protector was unconscious in the arms of a known enemy. It would have been so easy to just kill him there, to take his essence and fuse it with his own to gain his power, but no, Castiel did not do that.

Instead, he continued walking. He walked up the hill, trying to rouse Dean to wake him up, to get him into consciousness before he walked into the town with their leader limping off his arm. He did not want the whole village after his head, one god was enough. They made it to the gate, and luckily no one was there, no one expected Dean to be coming back to the village so early, so Castiel snuck through, Dean still leaning on his arm, but at least somewhat aware of what was going on around them.

“Cas, where are we?” Though the nickname unappreciated, Castiel paused where they were, getting a better grip around Dean’s waist, pulling his arm more over his shoulder.

“Back in town, now be quiet, we do not want people to notice us,” Castiel had taken the visage of a young boy, skin dark and hair long behind him, furs lining his clothes. He did not need the other people to know he was a god, but there was no way to mask the wound he’d been given, so he only hoped no one would stop and investigate.

“Really?” Dean’s eyes were still closed, and he winced in pain as Castiel tried to figure out which way his house was. They finally made it to the stone structure and Castiel kicked the door in, but not hard enough to get it off the hinges. He dropped Dean onto the first bed he could get to and quickly began to take off his clothes.

His shirt had to be ripped off, stuck fast to his skin from the drying blood and sweat. There were a number of small puncture wounds, from what Castiel knew had been the shards of ice he’d shot towards him, and then a gaping hole sat on his left side, torn and bloody, worse than anything Castiel had seen in all his years.

“How bad is it?” Dean tried to lean up to see but Castiel forced him back down.

“Stay here,” Castiel waited until he nodded, most likely falling asleep as Castiel hurried through the town, invisible to everyone.

When he arrived at the shrine, there was no one there, so he just glanced around again before picking up Dean’s stone. Heat surged through the stone and into Castiel, warming up his whole body, more than he had ever felt in his existence. He hurried back to the house, avoiding looks and gazes until he shut the door behind him and entered the bedroom.

“Fucking took you long enough,” Dean’s eyes were still closed, and though his wounds had stopped bleeding by this point, they still obviously drew on all the strength Dean had to give. Castiel stood next to him and he sighed before holding the stone over his abdomen. He slowly brought it down until he barely touched him.

Sunlight shot through the stone into Dean, and his back arched as he cried out. Castiel quickly removed the stone, pulling it back to look at what it had done. Dean lay unconscious again, but the wounds on his abdomen and chest were all gone, no scar tissue even telling that he had been injured. Castiel sighed in relief and took the stone in both hands, staring at its mysteries before he heard the door to the front of the house open. He paused and made himself invisible again, pushing himself against the wall as the bedroom door opened.

Sam walked in, out of breath and face red from the cold outside. He looked at Dean and immediately moved to his side, checking at his body, prodding his flesh, which Castiel now noticed was sunburned in very spot they could see. Sam sat next to him and put his hand over his heart and sighed when he found it beating. Castiel took the chance and quickly fled the room, closing the door to the outside of the house as he did.

He flew over the town again, dropping in front of the shrine, still invisible to the humans. He took the stone in one hand and placed it back down where it belonged before turning around. A man in all black stood behind him. He was human from what Castiel could tell, but he appeared to be looking through him towards the stones and the shrine to the gods the people kept. His hood was pulled high, but Castiel could still see a grin, one that made him uneasy. This man had not been in the town before, but that was of no concern to him right now, not when he needed to return and completely heal himself. He spared one last glance at the man before he jumped from the wall to the sky, seeking refuge until his body healed completely.


	4. Waking

Returning to his perch, the small cloud that fit in with the rest that he called home, he sat and rested. There were many things that crossed his mind as he let himself heal, lying back on the cloud, letting it drift slower than the others within the vast sky in which it dwelled. He had just healed Dean, after walking him out of the forest and into the town, though carrying might be a better description now that he thought about it.

His own wound did not heal quickly like it should, the gash on his right shoulder pained him more than anything he had felt in years, and he just wanted it to be done and over with. The only way to do that though was to sleep, and Castiel did not know if sleeping at this point would be good. It was the only way though, so Castiel closed his eyes and evened his breathing. It didn’t take long until his mind filled with dreams of the future.

 

* * *

 

Dean groaned as he turned over on the bed, his whole body aching at every move of his muscles. He opened his eyes and looked to see Sam sleeping on a chair by the door. The bastard hadn’t even woken him up. Dean strained himself to sit up, and his hand went to his left side when he remembered what had happened before he’d blacked out, only to feel smooth skin, nothing there to show that he had been wounded.

“Sam,” with his throat parched, his speech came out forced and dry, but Sam woke anyways, starting from the chair, almost jumping out of it.

“Dean! Are you okay? I mean, I got back to the house and you were out cold,” Sam helped him to sit up against the back of the bed, pulling the blankets over him, though he was already warm enough to light several cities aflame.

“I’m fine, I just need some fucking water,” that was the only thing that sat on Dean’s mind now, quenching the thirst that seemed endless. He tried to move more, but every little twitch or stretch pained him, and he didn’t know why. Upon further inspection of his skin, though he hadn’t noticed at first, every inch seemed to be pink rather than the regular tan he had grown accustomed too since he had been changed. He was sunburned, something he hadn’t been, even while mortal. He tested his skin, pressing a finger to it, biting his tongue as pain bit at him, and then pulled his finger away. The skin turned from a light white back to pink, solidifying his thoughts.

“I got some bread from Jo and Ellen, they were worried too, but I told them you needed to rest.”

“You make it sound like I’ve been asleep for days. How long was I out?” Dean took the tray Sam passed to him, placing it on his lap. He first grabbed the wooden cup, filled to the brim with fresh water from the well on their side of town. Like a dog that hadn’t eaten in days, Dena drank his water, not stopping to pause until it was gone. Sam took the cup, still not having answered his question. “So? How long was I under?”

“You were under for two weeks, Dean,” Sam left the room, coming back in quickly with a large wooden bucket, also filled with water. Dena stared at him, at a loss for words at what he had just heard.

“Two weeks? You’re telling me that shithead put me under for two weeks?”

“Who do you think did this?” Sam handed Dean the bucket, not caring that his brother would like to drown himself in the liquid right now.

“It was Cas. He went after me in the forest, and so I kinda had a sentinel push him over, but the bear that I was controlling got fatally wounded, so I took the wound for it and sent it off,” Dean took the bucket and almost dumped it over into his mouth, drinking greedily from it. Sam sat back down on the chair he had pulled into the bedroom, silent as night.

Dean placed the bucket down after he’d emptied it, grabbing at the bread on the tray in front of him and eating. He tore it apart, stuffing it into his mouth in small parts while he looked to Sam, who remained silent.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked around a mouthful of food, still stuffing more into his mouth as he tried to get rid of the hunger that sat in him.

“A man came the day I found you in here, two weeks ago. He uses magic.”

“So? Gilda uses magic.”

“His name is Alastair. When I told Bobby that you were unconscious, he overheard us, and began telling the town you were on your deathbed, that the gods had done this to you,” Sam’s voice grew quiet, and Dean wanted so much then to stand up and storm out of the house.

“What did he do Sam?”

“He sort of warded the town against gods. They can’t enter the town anymore. It means if you leave again to go hunting, you can’t come back,” Sam stood from his chair, running a hand through his hair, eyes closed as he thought over the situation. Dean took the last roll in front of him, quietly eating it as he thought.

Dean was one of the sole providers for this village, his power enabling him to overcome the larger game, and gather more supplies than any one human could get on their own. Not being able to leave would be the hardest thing the village would face. They hadn’t adequately prepared for winter, so many things had delayed them from doing everything they needed. Prolonged harvests, animals being harder and harder to trap and shoot, so many things pooled in to get them where they were, unprepared for the winter to come.

“Who gave him permission to do that?”

“The town. They all thought it would be the safest. Castiel is out there, and he hates you so much, he wouldn’t blink an eye at swatting us away. He can’t come in here now, but you can’t leave either,” Sam did not seem to understand, but that made sense. Dean did not know what to do with the information that he held, the fact that Castiel had spared him and brought him back here. Dean could not think of any way that he could have been healed so quickly, but he was sure that Castiel was the reason for that too.

“Cas isn’t bad. He’s the one who brought me back here, and probably the one who healed me,” Dean knew he could trust his brother with this information, but now that it was out there, he did not know what they were to do about the ward around the town. He wanted nothing more than to get up from his bed, to get up and walk to the man who had done this to the town. Sure, at first they had outright threatened Castiel when he first approached them, but now, they should do nothing but praise him and thank him for protecting one of their own.

“Really? How do you know?”

“I’m here aren’t I? If Castiel hadn’t helped me, I would be dead in that forest and we would be in worse situation. Help me get up,” Dean held his hands up, ignoring the pain that came with it. Sam took his hands and helped him to his feet, bare against the cold wood of the floor.

“You should stay inside until the sunburns are healed. I could go and get a salve for them,” Sam nodded, and Dean sighed, but agreed with his brother, though he stayed standing. Several things crossed his mind at the same time, and the most important was what he then asked.

“Hey Sam, has it snowed yet?”

“No, not yet. I’ll be right back, stay inside,” Sam closed the bedroom door, leaving Dean standing alone, contemplating everything that could have happened while he slumbered.

Castiel must have healed by now, his injuries having not been as serious, but then again Dean was not sure if he could heal himself, though if he had healed him, he didn’t leave that far out of his reach. Dean didn’t know what kind of power Castiel truly wielded, but from what he’d seen, and to be able to control the weather, it must have been something enormous.

The entire situation between him and Castiel seemed strange. Dean, a new god, being pandered by an older one, one that hadn’t known competition for probably his whole existence. It made sense that Castiel would be perturbed by his presence in the town, keeping him from staying to a schedule well in the making. Though Dean hadn’t caused any harm, and during the fall he had even been visited by the fall goddess, Anael. She had blessed the town with a great harvest because he had reached godliness, but there were not enough people in town to collect everything, and so the extra crops had gone to waste, dying in the fields as the cold slowly crept in.

Castiel was different. He had never made any sort of contact before, he had never told them what he wanted other than sending the hail storm after they had sacrificed an animal to him. He liked fruits and vegetables, and sweet bread especially, at least from what Dean remembered after they’d given those up to him in the smoke.

He grew tired on his feet, his soles burned as well, the cool wood beneath him doing nothing to sooth them. He sat back down on the bed, trying to calm down, trying not to think about what might have happened while he was asleep. He was the one assigned to protect the town, ever since his father died, and ever since he’d been raised to be a god he had felt more responsibility.  Of course it seemed as though, out of all the gods he knew of, he was the weakest. He could not control the weather; he could not will himself stronger or larger, though the way he’d seen Castiel act, it didn’t seem as though he could do that either. Exactly how much power did each one of the four guardians of the seasons have? Were they truly gods? Their limited power seemed to make them only stronger than humans, but now it did not matter what they were, because they were being threatened.

Dean knew nothing of this man called Alastair, except that he was a magic user. There were many magic users around the world, Dean knew that, but he had never met one that could ward an entire town, something that large was simply out of the question for anyone that tried to accomplish it; they died in the process of drawing the sigils, or they burned inside out from the power and magic being drawn from them to keep the wards strong. It did not seem likely that Alastair could be walking around while keeping the wards intact, but Dean did not know what the magic user did now, all he knew was that his feet hurt and that he wanted to be asleep again.

Sam came back soon enough, his nose and ears pink from the cold as he closed the door behind him. He smiled, his teeth showing as he caught his breath. “Gilda made a salva that should heal the sunburns by tomorrow.”

“Great, let’s get going,” Dean sat on the bed and began to unclothe himself, Sam helping him spread the salve all over his skin.

Hours later he lay on his bed, eyes closed, but aware of everything around him. Sam sat in the room, asleep again since outside the moon stood steadily over the sky. Castiel was out there somewhere, and Dean yearned to know what he planned; delaying the snow this long was not like him, they usually had snow within the first week of his reign, and almost four weeks into the season they had been dry, barely even a drop of rain. Something had to be wrong, nothing could be right in this situation, not when there were so many variables.


	5. Magic Users

It hurt to do anything; every move he made, anyway he turned his body, everything that he wanted to do, it hurt. Castiel knew what was going on, he knew exactly what had happened, but he was at a loss to do anything. His movements were not under his control, nothing was except his brain, but that alone would do nothing to combat whoever had picked up his stone and kept it beneath their clothes.

Again and again he was forced to delay the snow, keeping it in; in more ways than one he resembled someone holding their breath underwater; wanting so much to breath in, to finally release the toxic breath within them, but not being able to, no air around for miles. He could breath though, that did not hurt. But everything else did, and Castiel hated it.

There was no one he knew that would have gone and taken his stone. The one person that had done that before had been brutally killed by his siblings. That time of course had passed, nothing would come to help him now, no one would feel any mercy for him, and the only thing Castiel could think to that was that he deserved it.

So many things had come to pass that he had let slide. He’d let the town beneath him freeze over so many times, almost killing all those who inhabited it. There were towns that he had done that to, killing all that was there, destroying houses and families alike, not batting an eye in the wake of so much destruction. This was his consequence for not caring, for not trying to help those who depended on him survive, for being cruel and mean just like the season he controlled. It was all his fault, and again, he couldn’t help but think that he was alone. No one would come to rescue him, not with what he had done.

So Castiel, still perched on his cloud, still lying on his back like he had been for the last two weeks, he wept.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean could not move, his legs stuck fast to everything, his arms in the same position. Both out of lack of strength to move them, and not wanting to deal with the pain of moving. Like hot knives piercing his skin, every time he even lifted a finger it knocked him back, kicked the air out of him, left him crying out for some relief, but he couldn’t do even that.

 

* * *

 

Even when Sam tried to help him move he couldn’t, Dean would scream out in pain, at least try to, his voice didn’t seem to work either, not allowing him to make any sort of noise from his mouth. Sam eventually let him lie there, and just fed him every once and a while, which thankfully didn’t pain his older brother.

Whatever predicament that Dean was in, Sam had no clue on how to fix it. The way it seemed situated, it was something about gods, as he was healed, his body was physically sound, but an invisible force seemed to poke and prod him from the inside. Sam needed to find a way to fix it, but he didn’t even know where to start.

Only a couple people knew about the gods extensively, and none of them were him. He knew one person though that would be able to help him, so Sam told Dean he would be back before nightfall, he needed to visit Bobby.

The village remained the same despite everything that had happened. Alastair had his own small hut that some of the villages had spent the two weeks making. Weird colored smoke and unusual sounds exited through the hole in the top, but still no one disturbed him. The hut was at the edge of the village, closest to the first ward he had laid on the outer wall, and it stood low to the ground, more like just a place to sleep than somewhere you could live.

Sam passed by it, quickening his step until he was on the other side of the village, walking towards the blacksmith’s house. The home that their friend lived in was the biggest in the village. It had several rooms filled with leather and wood bound books, all with scrawls that only Bobby could understand. He shared the home with his wife, who made the most of the baked goods in the town as well, as she had nothing else to do, no kids of her own. Sam entered the house without knocking to see her stitching together a pair of pants, a wooden needle in her hands.

“Sam, it’s so good to see you. How is Dean?” She smiled warmly up at him, stopping her progress on making the garment as she did. Karen was one of the few people that knew Dean was awake, that knew he was trapped in some sort of spell. Sam had only spread the word out as soon as it had happened, though only to her and Bobby, and Charlie and Gilda.

“Still in pain. Dean can’t speak either. I was wondering, does Bobby have anything whatsoever pertaining to the gods? Like how they work, what they can do? How they do it?” Sam sat on the wooden bench next to her, rubbing his hands together, trying to get warmer.

“He most likely does, though I wouldn’t know for sure. You know that I can’t read his handwriting, it’s worse than chicken scratch,” Karen stood from her rocking chair, leaving her work on the seat as she gathered the shawl around her shoulders and left the room, leaving Sam on the bench by himself, wishing that the couple would keep a fire going like the rest of the village.

There was not an extensive amount of books in the town. The only books in the town were owned by Bobby, who loathed to give them out to people he knew would not take care of them, and Charlie. Charlie’s books though were fairy tales that had usually been passed down orally, and she’d finally put them to parchment, recording the stories they’d told since the beginning of their history. She kept them with Gilda, a foreigner who had traveled in the wrong direction, only to come to their town and fall in love and marry Charlie. They were the couple that also made most of the medicine, and everyone loved being around them since their words either lightened oneself or were wise words of advice.

Karen came back into the room only a few minutes later, her face flustered as Bobby followed behind her, several books in his hands. The older man had a gruff face, covered in a beard sparse with brown and graying whiskers, his longer hair kept in a bun like his wife and kept in a hat made from the skin of a raccoon. He sat down in the larger chair, lined with furs and larger than he needed by himself, but not quite a bench like what Sam sat on.

“Boy, why are you goin’ and lookin’ for things about the gods? We already got one hatin’ us, we don’t need another,” but Bobby began looking through his books anyways. Most of them were firsthand accounts of the meetings between people of their village and the gods. The few times the gods would come to their town, asking or revealing things to them. Sam wasn’t sure how much information they would hold, but they were his only choice at this point.

“Because something in there might be able to help me save Dean. We don’t know what’s wrong.”

“You don’t know?” Bobby shut his book, sighing as he did. “Sam, his stone’s been taken. Stolen by someone in the village. Last time I was by the bonfire there were only a few stones at the shrine. No ones been lookin’ to talk about it, but whoever holds that thing is controlling and torturing your brother.”

“Then we need to get it back!”

“Alastair’s got it,” Bobby closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

“How do you know?” Sam stood from the bench, rage boiling under his skin. He didn’t need Bobby to answer that though, the only person in the whole village that would deface their shrine was Alastair, the foreigner who knew magic, too much magic. “Why haven’t we done anything about it?”

“Have you heard anything coming out of his mouth? Have you smelled anything coming out of his tent? The man ain’t right, boy. He ain’t right in any way. Hell knows what he can do to one of us with those stones in his hand. With those stones, your brother’s as good as a slave, under his command no matter what. Right now, he just doesn’t want him to move, so it’s causin’ Dean pain when he does. That’ll change real quick if you come stompin’ on his doorstep,” Bobby pushed the books off his lap onto the ground next to his chair, rubbing his hand over his face and running his fingers through his beard.

Sam seethed with rage. How could they let this happen? Why did they let such a suspicious man enter their village when he obviously radiated everything that was wrong in the world? Sam sighed, trying to calm himself down, but it didn’t work that much.

“I’ve got to do something about it Bobby, I’ve got to, he’s my brother.”

“I know Sam. The best way to find out how to undo this whole thing is to know about magic. The only way you’re gonna find out about magic is if you talk to a magic user, and the only other magic user in this town is Gilda. So get goin’, we’re countin’ on you,” Bobby stood and patted Sam on the shoulder, holding him there before he lifted his hand off, staring him in the eye until Sam turned and left the house, the cold air a slap on his face.

 


	6. Anael

Sam’s head swirled with thoughts, everything trying to go to the forefront of his mind as he tried to think about the way he was supposed to go to get to Charlie and Gilda’s house. He ended up taking several wrong turns through the houses and storage barns they had all over town, but he finally made it to his friend’s house.

Charlie and Gilda’s house had a fence around a section outside of it, another door leading in and out of only that one area. Within it they grew herbs and other magical plants to help make their medicines and potions, and Sam was always curious in how they did that, but it didn’t matter now. Sam knocked on the wooden door, trembling as he waited for them to answer.

Charlie opened it, bright red hair half pulled back with a strip of leather, the rest of it pooling over her shoulders and back. She saw the expression on Sam’s face and immediately grew concerned. “What’s wrong?” She moved aside quick enough to let him into the house.

Sam almost fell on his face as he leaped inside, Charlie closing the door behind him. He was breathing heavily, as he tried to find somewhere to sit, and finally sat at the small table that resembled the one he had in the house he shared with his brother. “Dean’s stone has been taken by Alastair. He took a load of them, and I need to know how to get them back without him hurting Dean.”

As he said this, Gilda walked into the room, wiping her hands on a rag, she didn’t notice Sam as she began talking to Charlie. “Jessica should be fine now. The illness is gone from her body.”

Sam froze at the name, swallowing thickly. All through summer he’d courter Jessica, but once fall had started she’d been struck with an illness that kept her in bed, and so she stayed in a room at the house. He’d forgotten in the midst of this, though he’d worried every day, unsure if he should visit because of how sick she appeared to be. Gilda noticed him, and she her face turned into a small smile. She knew about how he had planned to marry Jessica, and hopefully still could now that he knew she was healed.

“Sam’s here wondering if you know any way we could stop Alastair. He’s taken the god stones,” right to the point, Charlie told Gilda what had happened, and she turned from healer to magical warrior in seconds.

“He has got wards around the town, but also around his hut. We’d have to break those in order to cast a spell on him. They’re strong since he’s using the power of the gods to help protect himself. I looked over at his hut the other day and inspected it for wards and spells,” Gilda handed her cloth to Charlie, who only tossed it into the bucket filled with other things that needed to be washed.

“How are we to break them?” Sam did not dabble in magic, he was much more into what he could see and hold, things he could break or make with his hands.

“I’ll have to take a closer look at them to be able to find a counter spell. We can get a good look at them tonight. I have to go help with someone’s children right now. They’ve caught a rare sickness. Sam, meet me by the well behind the stone storage house,” Gilda smiled, and she nodded to Sam. He didn’t know why they had to wait, this was surely more important than helping little children, his brother’s life, and possibly the whole town was in danger because of this stranger!

He paused and turned back towards the door that Gilda had come out from, unable to form a sentence containing what he wanted to ask. “Would… would it be alright if I saw her? If I went in and just, talked with Jessica for a moment?”

Everyone in town had known Sam’s love for Jessica, they had all been waiting for him to ask her for her hand, had been waiting for them to get married, it was so easy to see that the two of them really loved each other. Then she’d gotten sick, and nobody had seen her since Gilda and Charlie had taken her in for healing, not even Sam.

Gilda sighed, folding her hands in front of her before looking back up to Sam. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be good. She’s resting, and this illness, whatever it was, really took its toll. The next time she wakes up though, I will tell you, and you can be the first to see her.”

Sam nodded his head, understanding the situation. She would be alright, she was healed now, just tired, and resting from whatever it was the illness had done to her, it was nothing big. He could wait. He’d already waited for so long, another day or so was nothing to be angry about.

“You should get going. Go stay with Dean for now or something. Just make sure you’re prepared for later,” Charlie gave him a soft smile, patting him on the shoulder before glancing back to Gilda.

“And we don’t know how strong he is, so tonight could be our last if he finds us trying to break them,” Gilda put in the last word. Sam just turned from both of them, walking towards the door before he was stopped again. “And there’s no god coming to help us.”

Sam left the house after that, the air around him swirling with the heat he gave off, trying to cool him down, trying to stop him in what he knew he had to do.

 

* * *

 

Castiel stood in the air over the town, invisible to all but one, his hands outstretched before him and aching. Not under his control, he brought the clouds in, moved them from their places to be above the town, darkening quickly with heavy bouts of snow, ready to be released at a second’s notice. Every one of his limbs moved of their own accord, controlled by someone, something he could not see, all working towards bringing the worst storm forward.

He could not even speak, he could not try to move his own body for fear of immeasurable pain. Castiel could do nothing to stop himself from creating the perfect storm before him. It slowly began to snow, small snowflakes falling everywhere he could see and beyond, covering all with clouds and cold.

“Castiel, what on earth are you doing?” He could not even turn his head to see his sister Anael, her voice outraged at what she saw unfolding before her. “Castiel?”

He could not reply of course, and she moved towards him anyways, light red wings silent behind her as she hovered next to him. Castiel did not keep back his tears, letting them fall freely as she looked into them. He wanted to scream at her to get away, to somehow hide her own stone, though he remembered that her’s didn’t dwell in the town below, but somewhere far off. Castiel’s mouth stayed silent though, his eyes overflowing with tears.

“What’s happened? Castiel you can’t just stay silent!” Anael began to grew angry, but as Castiel’s arms moved again, pushing the clouds lower and lower, the ceiling of the sky falling closer to the ground than ever before. Anael watched, and she understood.

“Someone’s taken your stone,” she gasped and covered her mouth. “I’ll help retrieve it, I’ll make sure it’s put back safely. Don’t worry Castiel,” Anael moved and kissed his cheek, wiping away his tears before she descended into the small town below them.

 

* * *

 

Sam returned to Dean, it was the only thing he could do. Nothing else ran through his head, no extra idea that could help them, he felt completely helpless more than helpful, and it was a horrible feeling. Upon entering the house though he noticed something different, it seemed to feel cold. A fire was going in the fireplace, fresh logs sitting and burning with the small snapping and such, but it still felt cold. As though something was missing from inside the home he shared with his brother.

“Dean?” Sam knew his brother couldn’t speak, but calling out to him was natural, and he hurried towards his room only to find the bed empty. His heart began to beat rapidly as he tried to think of what could have happened. Alastair had stolen Dean’s stone, so wherever Dean was, Alastair wanted him there. Sam closed his eyes, walking out of the room and closing the door before opening them up again. In front of him was a woman about a head shorter than himself, hair the color of turned fall leaves.

“Sam, your brother’s been taken. Do you know by who?”

“Who are you?” Sam tried to step back, but only bumped into the door, not accomplishing anything.

“I’m Anael, goddess of the fall. I’m the one who blessed your harvest fields last season.”

“Why are you here? Why are you helping?”

“Castiel is my brother, would you not risk your life for your brother? He’s in tremendous pain, and I could only imagine that your brother is in the same situation,” Anael nodded her head, and Sam did as well.

“What are we to do about it? I’ve already told Gilda, a magic user and healer here, that we would meet to see the wards he’s set on the place he lives, but that isn’t until nightfall,” Sam moved into the front part of the house, sitting in front of the fire. Anael joined him, silent as she thought.

“I am not well versed in magic humans use, since Hael was the one to give them magic, but I could easily get the wards from his home and tell her what they are, and she could work to break them,” Anael nodded to herself, then looked back up to Sam, sure of herself with a  smirk on her face.

“Alright, well then let’s get going,” with a goddess on his side, Sam didn’t feel as though he was going into that much danger. Though if her stone were in the same shrine as the others, it could still be resting there, just waiting for Alastair to take it. what if he were while they were doing something important, and another god were thrown around at his control? “Uh, your stone isn’t here, is it?”

“Oh no, my stone is in a town to the east, in a shrine well protected by its people. I don’t often come here,” she smiled sweetly, and they both stood up. “Let’s get going then.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Sam nodded his head, getting up with her as well. They walked out of the house, Sam closing the door behind them. The town around them still seemed normal, and no one seemed to notice that fact that a goddess stood right next to him and planned to save all of them.

But as they walked into the street, Sam noticed something different. Snow fell everywhere, small snowflakes landing softly on every surface bared towards the sky; the first snowfall that year. The clouds didn’t look right though; they looked heavy and dark and dangerous, nothing they were used to. Before, when Castiel had threatened them, he’d seen the clouds quite violent, but nothing like this. They seemed to lie so close to them, as though if Sam reached just a bit higher, he would be able to touch them.

“Castiel is being used, and it’s the only reason I knew to come here. We don’t have much time, we must hurry,” Anael pulled on Sam’s sleeve, pulling him from looking at the sky as they started off towards Alastair’s hut, ready to see if they could break of the spells and wards the evil magic user had cast.

 


	7. Another Taken

The hut in question that both Sam and Anael approached stood low to the ground, the top of it shorter than Sam. Made of sticks and leaves sewn together by thickened spiderweb, at least that was what Alastair said had to be used, it was a crude house. The two of them didn’t get close enough to see the different amount of leaves, keeping a safe distance away, hopefully to not get caught by the magic user inside.

“His whole home is covered in protective charms and sigils,” Anael whispered, daring to inch forward slightly, away from the stone wall of a house they were hiding by. Sam stayed there, reluctant to follow her until she waved for him to. She touched his arm and something tingled under his skin, as though a spark from a fire had gone underneath. “I’ve made you invisible, like me,” Anael whispered before they continued to creep towards the wooden hut.

“Is our speech protected as well? Can he hear us?” Sam whispered into her ear, watching where he placed his feet so as not to step on a branch and disclose their location.

“No, but we still must be cautious. With Dean and Castiel’s god stones, he might be able to delve where we are if he is in tune enough with them,” Anael continued towards the hut, and stopped at least five feet out from it. She nodded her head, and Sam could only think she was looking at what was protecting the house. “I will make a list of the different spells he’s used to ward himself.”

A small slab of rock appeared in her hands, and slowly the different symbols of spells and charms were engraved into it, their magic null in something so solid and unmoving. Sam watched as they appeared, still following Anael as she walked around the hut, making sure to catch every sigil and ward and placing their respective symbols and charms into the stone, keeping track of everything that would need to be broken.

As they began to round towards the entrance, Anael stilled, not moving anything or giving any indication that she was still copying down everything she saw. Her chest did not even rise and fall with her breathing. Sam began to grow worried, getting closer to her to see what could be wrong. He took the stone from her arms and waved his hand in front of her face. Something had to be wrong, this wouldn’t just happen of her own accord. Her eyes moved to look at Sam, and a sadness he could not comprehend hid behind them, and soon tears began to fall from her eyes like the snow did around them. Her god stone had been taken.

 

* * *

 

Dean no longer cared about being on his bed, he would rather be there than where he stood at the moment. He walked, though not controlling his legs, to the outskirts of the town, everything about him seeming normal. Whenever someone would wave to him, his arm would raise to wave back, but again he could not control it. He still could not talk or control his mouth in any way, just the place his eyes looked, not even the turning of his head was under his control.

His body took him out of the town, and beyond the large wall, those guarding it waving at him with smiles on their faces, glad he was there, though not knowing everything that was going on. It was the first time Dean had been seen by the town in weeks, so of course they were all happy he was alive and well. No one seemed to understand that his god stone had been taken, and because of that, he couldn’t help like with their works like he used to.

Outside the walls he continued walking; and he kept walking and didn’t stop. Dean just watched the ground ahead of him in terror, knowing something horrible would strike the town while he was gone, and that it was the sole reason his stone had been taken, so he couldn’t help those he loved.

 

* * *

 

Sam quickly shut the door behind him, breathing hard and erratic, the stone warm against his chest with all the magic held within it. Anael was lost to him, she had disappeared right before his eyes, and then he’d run back to his home, hoping that he could hurry and get this all over with.

Sam placed the stone on the table and ran his hands through his hair, just letting them rest behind his head as his mind raced through all the things he could do now. He needed to go and talk to Gilda again, but she was delivering a child, and he couldn’t bother her with that, not when it was vital if the child wanted to survive. He could always just wait at Charlie’s house, but right now he did not want to leave the confines of his home. Everything outside seemed dangerous or potentially fatal, and if not one of those, then purely too much for him right now.

He calmed himself down, taking a drink or two of water until he thought about checking on Dean. He placed his wooden cup next to the tablet and walked towards the room, opening the door only to find the bed his brother had been occupying empty. Frozen for almost a minute, Sam finally moved away, slamming the bedroom door closed before he grabbed the tablet once more and fled the house, running towards Charlie and Gilda’s house.

Everything he looked at seemed dangerous and lethal, and that only urged him on more, soon trembling as he continued to knock on Charlie’s door until she opened it, looking worriedly up at him. “Sam is everything okay?”

“No! Dean’s gone, and Anael, the fall goddess, her stone’s been taken too,” Sam let himself in, not waiting for her to give him consent, too worried and scared about what he thought could happen now to all of them. Three gods were under the control of humans, and that was three too many.

“What? You mean the fall goddess came to you? What did she look like?”

“Charlie, that doesn’t matter! She’s in danger, and we need to break the spells on Alastair’s hut before tonight. We must or we risk destroying the whole town.” As it was now, snow continued to drop from the sky, heavier now and with winds gathering force and moving it and piling it on everything that stood still.

“What’s going on?” Kevin, Gilda’s apprentice in magic and herb usage, came out from the room Jessica was sleeping, his hair messy and his face covered in sweat, obviously just finishing some magical work. Sam blinked again at seeing him and remembered what he’d heard so long ago. Upon entering the village with his mother, Kevin had been able to tell what most of the spells and charms around the village were, before the wooden wall stood as a physical barrier. He was better at reading magic spells and sigils than Gilda, but not as good at using them himself.

“Kevin, I have need of you. Could you perhaps translate this? Or at least tell me what charms are needed to counter them?” Sam forgot about everything else, the safety of his brother and the town at the forefront of his mind. Charlie blinked, still not understand what was happening, and Kevin in the same state, and even more so upon being asked such a thing. Sam handed him the tablet as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. He peered at the different inscriptions and sighed, moving to sit at the small table and bringing a piece of parchment and a piece of sharpened tree bark.

“I don’t know how long this will take. These spells and charms are old and powerful and most of their counters will be the same. I won’t be able to perform them,” Kevin got to work as he spoke, and Sam only nodded his head.

“It has to be finished today, before night fall, before Alastair is allowed to wreak more havoc with the gods’ powers,” Sam sat at the table across from him, folding his hands over it. Kevin glanced up at him, still confused on what was happening, but going along with it since he trusted the urgency in Sam’s voice. He knew there wasn’t a lot of information to go on, he didn’t have a lot of information himself, but this needed to happen, it was the only way they could secure the town and maybe survive this winter since it obviously wasn’t under Castiel’s control anymore.

“Sam, tell us what’s happened,” Charlie sat down as well, pushing aside what she was doing at the moment, which apparently was feeding more wood into the fire, letting it die down without concern of it getting cold in the house.

“The god stones are their source of power, and Alastair has taken Dean and Castiel’s. I don’t know how he’s taken Anael’s when she just told me today that she kept her’s in a different town. We’ve got to get them back from Alastair, who knows what he could do with that kind of power,” Sam continued to tremble, partially with fear, and mostly with rage at what he was doing to his brother. How had they let him in? Wouldn’t Gilda have been able to read his negative power? It no longer mattered though, they needed to act and act fast, and Sam only hoped they would be quick enough.

 

* * *

 

Castiel stood in front of a shrine to the gods, one much larger than the one in the town he usually resided over, but it no longer mattered. In his hand was a small brown stone, something someone could accidentally trip over, but when looking back would not notice it since it blended in with the ground so well. The guards around the shrine could not see him, they could not sense how malevolent Castiel’s aura was, just because he was being controlled by someone else so far away his whole essence reeked with evil intent.

The stone lay warm in his palm, and he wished more than anything that he could drop it and leave this place, return back to the town he liked seeing, the place he was so used to staying around. Instead though, he walked out of the shrine made of intricately carved stone slabs, still invisible to both the guards on either side of him, and he rose into the sky. His position shifted to be inside what he knew to be Alastair’s small hut in the town where Sam and Dean dwelled.

The evil man smiled wickedly and shot out his hand, taking the stone from Castiel’s hand and rolling it over inside his own hands. the other stones he held Castiel could see hanging around his neck in harnesses right next to his chest. His own small blue gray stone hung there beside Dean’s, clinking against it every other moment.

“Very good, you can continue with the storm now,” Alastair's’ nasally voice commanded him, his heavily tattooed hand waving him away. Castiel appeared above the town again, immobile in the space Alastair had sent him, his arms out in front of the as hard ice crystals began to form in his palms, and like in his hands, the snow grew hard in the clouds around him, and soon enough, they too began to pour down upon the world, pelting everything with hard ice and death.

 


	8. Caught

Sam awoke as his head fell from its perch on his palm. He stirred and shook his head around, startled by nothing around him. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep while he waited for Kevin to finish translating the tablet, but there he was, waking up from an impromptu nap, Kevin sitting on the opposite side of the table, drooling onto the stone tablet underneath his cheek.

A piece of parchment next to his hand had scribbles and scrawls all over it, illegible since it was upside down, but Sam took it from underneath his loose grip, skimming over it before looking outside to see it dark. Kevin stayed slumbering, and Sam knew that was for the better.

He stood, folding the piece of paper over and placing it the fold of one of his shirts, looking around the house. Charlie was nowhere in sight, and he could only guess that gilda had not yet returned from the birthing she had been watching over. Which left only Kevin, Jessica, and himself in the house. Thinking of her, Sam glanced over to the door with which she hid behind. Though he knew he would imagine it, he was sure he heard her calling from behind it for Charlie or Gilda, anyone that happened to be in the house.

Sam walked over to the door and took a large inhale before he opened it and entered. Jessica sat on a small bed, leaned up against the headboard, her blonde hair splayed over her shoulders, and her hands folded in her lap. A large blanket covered her body up to her stomach, worked with many patterns and symbols that he knew Gilda had put there to help her heal. He said nothing as he gazed upon her, glad to see her face the regular pink and bright that he had remembered before taken in for healing.

“Sam,” her voice came out soft, her cheeks reddening at the sight of him. She did not tell him to go away, but soon motioned for him to come closer, to sit on the bed next to her. He did so, placing his large hand over hers, feeling how cold her bones were and just encircling her hand with his own. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Sma could barely speak, in awe of how beautiful she still was, despite her illness that no one could name. Her light eyes still sparkled like jewels, and her smile a pure rainbow on her face, wide and beautiful. She looked down, away from Sam’s gaze, her cheeks bright red as she pushed her hair behind her with her other hand.

“How is everyone? Has Dean gotten control of his powers yet?” And because she had only gone into the house she not lay after he had come back and declared his godhood, she only knew that he was no longer mortal, and nothing else. Sam bit his lip before telling her what had happened.

Retelling the story he had been living the past few weeks was hard, as she knew nothing of what was going on, and she would interrupt to ask a question here or there, but for the most part stayed silent to let him speak. Telling of Dena’s gain of strength and leadership was easy, as it had always been within him,but telling of his disappearance and the odd ways in which it had happened caused trembles to go down his spine and through his body.

He told her of Castiel, of how the god seemed angered by them, and how it now snowed harder than it ever have. But he could not only tell her that and not tell her about how Dean did not think it was him doing this, that something had happened, that the winter god had had a change of heart after talking with him in the forest, after almost ending his life and then saving it.

When Sam finished his story they both stayed silent, Sam running his thumb over her hand, keeping her warm before bringing her limb to his mouth and kissing the back.

“I still wish to marry you, but now is not the time. I must stop Alastair, and maybe after then, after you’ve healed completely, and after I’ve built you a home, then we can be married. I promise you that I will take your hand,” Sam kissed the back of her hand again, then turned it over, kissing her palm and rolling her fingers up, holding her hand in both of his.

“And you will. I have faith in you Sam. I know you can do this, now go and save us all,” Jessica leaned forward and pressed their lips together, a chaste kiss to last while he was gone. Sam let them fall apart and smiled back at her, patting her hand one last time before rising and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Castiel trembled despite the fact that he couldn’t control his limbs. His sisters stood before him, mirroring his position. They all had their hands out in front of them in a circle, and they all felt the same sensation. At that moment they were all in an empty storehouse in a forest they had not seen before, or at least ventured by themselves. They all heard the same things in their head too.

“I know one of you know the location of Gabriel’s stone, or at least where he is. I don’t know which one, but either you tell me, or you’ll watch each other die slowly and painfully, or,” suddenly there was another person in the room. Dean fell to his knees, dry heaving. His mortal body was not made for teleporting, Castiel knew that, and forcing him to do so only resulted in what happened before him. “He’ll die.”

Castiel wanted to speak out, to scream at Alastair that what he was doing was not right, that in destroying a god, even one that had not existed for long, would shake the balance of nature, but of course he couldn’t. Nothing was under his control except his mind, but that was not enough.

“Feel free to speak up now,” Alastair himself was not in the room, just a thought they could all hear, and at him speaking this their mouths were released to them, but their actions were not.

“Alastair, what you are doing, what you’re planning, it will get no where. You’ll only end up killing yourself from all the magic you’ve tried to absorb from us,” Anael, always to most critical of any of them, spoke first, and Castiel knew her to be telling the truth. Though he had not been focusing on his own source of magic, he could feel a small pull, something of his was being taken from him as he stood there, and now that his sister said this, he knew it to be his magic, his very essence.

“She’s right, Alastair. And if we did know where Gabriel was, you would have been able to force us to tell you,” Hael closed her eyes and sighed, showing what they all felt.

“Killing Dean will  only shake the balance even more, Alastair. Killing him, though I had wanted to, would destroy a simple balance that stands in this world. You of all people should know that,” Castiel looked to Dean, who seemed to be in some control of his actions, as his head quickly snapped up at Castiel saying his name. He quickly froze though, and his body began moving in rugged fast actions until they were all standing in a circle, their hands and arms moved to their sides.

“I don’t care! You’ll tell me, I’ll find his stone, and I’ll rule over the seasons and the world. I’ll just keep you here until you fess up. Maybe I’ll start my own terror and wreak havoc on a little place this new godling call home,” Alastair’s cackle could be heard through their flimsy connection, and then it snapped. They all looked to each other, and though they could no longer speak, and could still not move, they all knew that they felt horror at what was to come, and concern for those they knew to be in danger.

 

* * *

 

Sam continued to sit at the table, not waking Kevin up, not searching for Gilda or Charlie, for just a little while. It didn’t take long for the younger boy to wake up, startling himself and wiping at his face to get the drool off. He saw Sam, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment, and he smiled.

“I finished with it. We just need Gilda now to come and then we can put out the spells around Alastair’s house,” he began looking around for the paper frantically before Sam pulled it out of his shirt and smiled.

Only a moment later did Charlie and Gilda walk back into their own home, their hands interlaced as they laughed, their noses and cheeks pink from the cold, the hoods from their cloaks covered with flakes of snow. They stared at Kevin and Sam sitting at the table, and quickly dispelled any amusement that had been going on.

“We’re ready to go and undo the spells Alastair’s cast,” Sam stood, handing the parchment to Gilda. She skimmed over it, nodding her head every now and then as the three watched on.

“This should do it. We can get going now then. We’ve got to be careful, the snow outside is making it hard to see. I can cast small warmth charms on us before we leave,” Gilda folded the paper again and pressed their forearms once, a small flame glowing orange before fading. A warmth overtook Sam’s body, his cheeks growing pink along with his nose to match Kevin and the women as well.

They left the house, all wearing light colored cloaks as they headed towards Alastair’s home. The snow fell silently, but it didn’t stop, it just continued falling from the ground, piling up in places all over town. They didn’t speak as they continued to walk, the sounds of their steps absorbed by the snow, making it seem quiet all around them. Charlie and Gilda kept their hands laced as they continued, both of them in the front, Gilda keeping her free hand over where she kept the parchment.

Alastair’s hut finally came into view, and they stopped short of it. Gilda pulled the parchment out, and after summoning a small dull light above the parchment itself, she began to undo the spells quickly and efficiently.

That didn’t mean Alastair did not notice though, for he soon pushed back the small leather flap he had been using as a soon and spotted them, a scowl on his face.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he screamed and began to run at them. It was at this point that Sam realized how much he wished he’d kept a weapon on hand, but alas, they were empty handed, and Alastair was running right at them, a bright white flame growing in his hand as he grew closer.

 


	9. Ceremony

They stared at one another, unable to do anything else, their mouths silent, though within their minds a blaze of fire erupted, causing pain to all of them. Castiel closed his eyes to the onslaught, more sensitive to fire than his siblings and Dean, the heat from the connection with Alastair causing him to sweat and his body to vibrate against his wishes.

Only the fire came through the small connection though, so anything that happened on the other side was unknown to them, though they knew something must be happening to Alastair for him to be thinking so hotly of destruction. Castiel dared to open his eyes and he looked at his sisters, whose frozen faces hid their pain well, but it could be seen easily from their eyes, filled with agony. Dean, across from him, did not seem phased, rather angry at the whole situation, his eyes almost red from his own rage, full of outrage. Castiel did not know what could make him this way, but seeing him charge through it made him want to match him. This simple fire that held no real threat to them would not hinder him. He would stay strong, and he would get his revenge on Alastair, no matter what.

 

* * *

 

Alastair continued to scream as he got closer, howling in rage at their trying to break his spells and protection. Though he had been trying to stop them, his focus seemed to break most of the ones covering the hut, the rest in null because he did not hide behind them. Gilda put herself between them, her own hands erupting in a purple flame that she sent spiraling his way, catching his cloak as he continued towards them. He simply tossed it aside and to the ground, the fire quickly extinguishing. Gilda was ready for him to come closer though, a long sword of flame forming in her hands that she pointed towards him, and that finally caused him to stop in his place, eyes brimming with fury.

“I’ll kill you all, but only after I’ve killed them,” Alastair laughed and cackled, opening his shirt to reveal his tattooed chest, several large rocks dangling on chains around his neck. The fire in his hand grew so intense that the group of them could feel it from where he stood, and the flames quickly licked up at his chest and the rocks, the chains around him beginning to turn red.

“Are you insane?! You’ll kill yourself!” Charlie shouted out, pushing to be in stance with Gilda beside her. Alastair did not seem to care, clutching one of the stones around his neck, his cackling continuing.

 

* * *

 

Castiel watched in horror as Hael fell to her knees, suddenly able to control herself, but so wracked with pain that it did not matter. She cried out, her hands against her chest as she folded onto herself, heat emanating from every part of her body. They could all feel the heat intensify within their own minds, but again, Dean was the one out of all of them to not show the pain, but to endure it.

Hael continued to writhe on the ground until something snapped, and Castiel gasped for the air he had not been able to breath by himself. He looked towards his siblings, and then his eyes went to Dean, who met his own and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The chains around Alastair’s neck snapped, melting around his skin and dropping the rocks into the snow below him, falling through the frozen water. Sam ran forward as they did, forgetting that the magic user could easily kill him with one touch of his blazing hand, falling to his knees to pick up the hot stones and bring them away from him, only thinking about protecting the gods and his brother. Gilda knew what he planned though, and followed him and as he got away, pulled up her sword to Alastair’s neck, piercing his throat with the flames.

The magic user’s mouth gaped open, the stone, white now from heat, fell from his hands and into the snow as well, though forgotten as Gilda pushed her sword through more to the hilt and tipped him over, causing him to fall to the ground. Alastair gurgled, blood spurting from the gaping hole in his neck, scrabbling at it as though he could somehow fix it. His body grew limp, a pool of blood around his head, turning the snow a crimson color. Gilda pulled back, and before returning to the group, picked up the stone that had fallen beneath her and then she walked back to Charlie and the others.

“We shouldn’t let his body stay here,” Kevin said, taking the stone from Gilda and placing it with the others in Sam’s arms. They all nodded in agreement, watching as Gilda walked back over, a small purple flame igniting in her hand once again, leaping down onto his body and lighting it aflame.

People slowly came out of their homes, hearing the ruckus despite the snow guarding sounds from leaving their places. They surrounded the fire, which had turned back to reds, oranges, and yellow, the flames licking at the sky, and stayed silent, unknowing of what had happened.

Charlie and Gilda crowded close, their hands intertwined as they stayed silent with the others. Kevin stayed still, watching as Alastair’s body burned. Sam held the stones, though hot in his hand, familiar in how they felt. Before long, it wasn’t just the town around the fire. Quietly thinking about what had happened, and how they had just overcome something they had not fully understood.

 

* * *

 

Castiel descended from the sky into the town, holding Dean’s hand within his own to guide him down. Anael and Hael had gone away, to heal Hael’s wounds and rest from what they had gone through. They touched down behind where Sam stood and Dean smiled as he went up and tapped his brother’s shoulder.

“Dean!” Sam almost dropped the stones in his hand, but quickly caught himself and smiled at him, his gaze shifting to Castiel, a friendly grin staying on his face. Castiel walked forward, his hand touching both Sam and Dean’s shoulders before he walked through the thinly formed circle around the fire, going towards the middle until he was inches away from the flaming body.

“It is truly time to celebrate,” Castiel raised his hands, and as he did,the clouds moved away quickly, the snow stopping, and as that happened, the sun began to peak over the horizon, shining onto them glittering sunlight, brightening the fire within their group.

The next day the people feasted. The men of the town, including Sam and Dean, had gone into the forest and caught plenty of small game for the people. Castiel stayed by the shrine, helping to build it more than what it had been before.

At midday, everyone met around it, and though they celebrated, Castiel had an announcement they would most likely not agree with. “We can not keep our stones of power here. Anywhere that people dwell is potentially dangerous for us,” Castiel glanced at Dean who stood next to him, and he nodded to Castiel before he continued, “and so we are going to move them somewhere secret. I shall hide Dean’s, and he mine. This is a truce of sorts, saying that I will not try to kill with my storms and winds, but I will do what is called for for my month.”

“We’ll be okay,” Dean said right after, smiling at the people in reassurance in a way Castiel could not. They were his people, so he supposed it was good of them to have a protector like Dean on their side. The two of the nodded at each other, and they left the town walking side by side in silence, until they separated at the beginning of the forest, and went on their way to hide their sources of power.

 

#### Two Weeks Later

They stood at the front of the small section of benches, newly made from fallen trees from the forest. Sam, dressed in the black cloth of the bridegroom, walked slowly up the aisle; Jessica, dressed in the white of the bride, beaming at him as she held his arm, walked with him. The two gods that ruled over the place and time they now married, blessed both of them, touching their foreheads with their middle fingers and touching the rings they exchanged.

A light snow fell in the breeze, though torches on the outskirts of their new meeting hall kept them all warm. Sam and Jessica, now married, began to dance among the people, smiles bright on their faces, the rest of the town watching in as they celebrated.

Castiel stood on the edge of the audience, watching with his hands behind his back. Someone tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see Dean, still dressed in his formal clothing and cloak, a golden sash around his waist and shoulders.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Dean commented, watching the dancing as well as he stood beside him.

“I have a right to watch the couple I have married. You might be seeing me around more often, though I have no home here,” Castiel smiled as well, watching as more couples and children went onto the cleared area of earth they had dubbed their dancing surface.

“There could be a home here for you. Sam just moved into the home he built Jess, and there’s an extra room at my place,” Dean’s voice seemed to falter as he said that, and Castiel turned his head to glance at him before returning to watching the dancing. It stayed silent before the musicians started another song. Dean held his arm out to Castiel. “Would you like to dance?”

His cheeks, blazing red much like the month he grew to be a god, told Castiel of his intentions, and Castiel couldn’t help but laugh and take his hand, joining with him in the dancing. The crowd cheered as they did, and Sam and Jessica even stepped aside, clapping as they danced along the earth beneath them, as they twirled around each other over where they had all come from.  

 


	10. Epilogue

Castiel groaned as the sun began to peek through the window. Waking up day after day during the season he wasn’t used to waking up at all was torture, at least he liked to say that it was. Beside him Dean chuckled, his hand hot on Castiel’s chest as he looked down at him from the other side of the bed, leaning on his other arm to keep himself up.

“To call me to wake every morning, do you plan to kill me?” he closed his eyes again, letting his head fall back against the folded blanket. Dean ran his hand up and down his chest slowly before Castiel felt his breath on his neck.

“I’m sure you don’t always mind,” Dean leaned down, his mouth laying kiss upon kiss along Castiel’s neck and collarbone before he finally moved further up to kiss his mouth. Castiel kissed back, his hands raising to run through Dean’s hair as he pulled him closer. “I knew you’d be fine with it.”

“You are lucky that I don’t freeze you,” Castiel bit his lip and continued to kiss him. Dean positioned his knee between Castiel’s legs, pushing it forward against his crotch, wishing they’d stayed unclothed from their activities last night, but alas, Castiel had thought otherwise. The blanket quickly was pushed off the bed as Dean hovered over Castiel, his arms on either side of his head, and his legs in between the god’s beneath him.

“Like you ever could,” another kiss, long and deep, and as Dena pulled away to speak again, Castiel followed him up, not wanting to separate. Dean breathed down next to his ear before kissing and lightly biting his lobe, “Do you think you’re still fine from last night?”

Castiel nodded, and Dean smiled into his cheek before kissing him again and rising to his knees and quickly pulling off both of their underclothes. Hot and naked bodies laid with one another, Dean constantly pushing himself against Castiel, pushing themselves together over and over until Castiel told him to stop. “Just, just fuck me,” he breathed, his hands holding loosely around Dean’s neck as the the man nodded.

Dean pushed Castiel’s legs above his shoulders, his ass open and wanting him ever since proposing the idea. He leaned down again to kiss Castiel as he pushed himself in to the hilt, eliciting a loud moan from his partner.

“Dean,” he breathed, his eyes staring at the ceiling as he felt the immense heat of Dean inside him.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” Dean kissed him again, and he began moving, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward again into him. Their pace quickened, Castiel’s eyes shut as he held onto Dean and just tried to meet him thrust for thrust, little hard exhales meeting his skin every time Dean thrust and hit his prostate.

“Dean, I’m,” Castiel gripped Dean’s back, scratching at it as his body and muscles tensed, causing him to release onto his stomach. Dean continued to thrust into him, his hands holding himself up next to Castiel’s head until he froze and came inside him, his mouth agape as he did, his eyes half lidded as he looked at Castiel.

The loss of Dean from his body was something Castiel had grown to hate. The one time warmth greeted him and touched him inside his body was only when they were together just as they were, and it only ever lasted but a few minutes. Dean knew that too, but they were content with their love, and they stayed in bed, Dean pulling the blanket back over them from the ground, curling himself around Castiel’s back and placing his chin on his shoulder.

They stayed silent and content for a while, time passing on by without them outside of their stone home, but they did not care. Castiel was even about to fall back asleep when Dean whispered something into his ear, something he couldn’t quite believe.

“Cas, have you ever thought about having kids?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this!! Feel free to leave comments and come and tell me on my blog if you liked it!! on tumblr I'm oldsaintcas ;u; again, thank you for reading!!


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